


Craters

by Witete



Category: Alien Series, Gravity Falls
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Gore, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Parasites, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Torture, Violence, tags will be added as this fic progresses, this is an alien crossover so prepare yourselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-12 11:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witete/pseuds/Witete
Summary: Unfortunate pasts affect the more unfortunate futures.





	1. Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea I had after watching Alien Covenant and builds off the idea of what if Ford came in contact with the same planet that Ripley and her crew had discovered? Now there may be a few inaccuracies here and there, but I couldn't just leave the idea alone!  
> Spoilers for the entire Alien franchise and warnings for gore (like if you've seen the movies, uh, it gets bad.)

Moving through a tear between space and time was always a gamble; you usually were ignorant as to what was waiting for you on the other side. Between the loud drone with the static that pricked at your skin and the vast expansion of an uncountable number of universes, there was no solid answer. You could guess, sure, but only if you had that kind of equipment that was worth a couple thousand rations across the multiverse. Also, if you felt like having your bounty raised by a couple hundred thousand monetary units or felt like getting mugged every other miserable day then, sure, by all means. Thankfully for this ragtag band of vagabonds, they were big enough to actually take on anybody who tried to size them up. So, yeah, they had a pretty good guess.

When the portal spit them out, the pull of gravity and electricity vanishing at their backs, they expected something at least presentable. So they were pleasantly surprised when they landed in a grassy field, a crisp and cold wind kissing their skin.

Ford had gotten lucky enough to land on his feet –though he did stumble for a few steps- while the rest were spit into the mud. Ford watched the portal at their backs shrivel and pop out of existence, leaving the group in a quiet and calm wilderness.

As the group gathered its bearings, Ford took in the sights, warily noting the deep rumbles of thunder that echoed in the clouds overhead. The landscape was breathtaking to say the very least. High precipices of rock jutted into the cloudy sky, trees clinging onto their sturdy faces. A large, dark lake surrounded the cliffs, the dark water seeping into the field, creating a shallow marshland. The yellowed grass whistled in the wind, undisturbed by the water peeling away at their stalks.

Ford took in a deep breath of the crisp air, a definite improvement from the hot, dry desert the group had resided in just a few minutes ago. He found himself smiling at the pleasant change, opening his ears to listen to the sounds of the wildlife that was sure to inhabit this place.

After a few seconds, that smile strained to a concentrated frown and the simple open listening turned to strained hearing. There was a concerning silence that greeted him. He mused, for a moment, that maybe the wind was too loud or the thunder was too close, but both of those excuses faltered. They were surrounded by lush forests and grass and marshland; he had to have heard at least _something_. But no; there was no sound of any living organism besides the plants. No birds. No animals.

Nothing.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his musings. He turned his head and smiled at his close companion, a being that reminded him of the hairless cats back on Earth- back _home._ His large green eyes were softened with relief and his mouth was curved into a half smile, trying to emulate Ford’s kind gesture. He reached up and fiddled with a button on his translator.

“Sure beats that desert place, huh?”

The voice was only slightly robotic, almost completely capturing the alien’s soft and peppy voice.

“Definitely,” Ford agreed, feigning comfort. His own translator clicked like a disapproval of his father’s tongue, but the alien responded with a nod and adjusted the bag on his back, ears flicking contentedly. The group meandered for a few minutes, taking in the sights before one of them stepped forward, a tall, soft-red skinned humanoid. She beckoned with a three fingered hand for them to follow. Her bioluminescent stripes flashed softly in the dim sunlight that managed to filter through the dense, dark clouds. The group followed, eyes peeled for shelter or food.

The cat –whose name was Akha’a, as a rough translation- fell beside Ford in a gentle stride, the two muttering lowly behind the group.

They had met each other some few years back when Ford had wandered into a war-torn planet, the inhabitants sick, wounded, and many dying. Akha’a had been young then, by 46’\ standards, a kitten; he was lost and alone. Ford found him sitting by a black barked tree, ash and scorched wood littering the ground below them. The whole landscape was practically infused with radiation. Ford was thankful that he had a coat on his back that repelled most forms of radiation, specifically plutonium.

The kitten had been scared to approach him, but the little thing barely had any energy left; with an arm that was torn and shredded beyond repair right at the elbow and so skinny that his ribs were visible through his thin skin, Ford wasn’t surprised.

After a few minutes of coaxing and trying to set his translator to the right setting, Akha’a finally gave in for a pack of rationed wafers.

He and Ford left that place as soon as they could, taking residence in a nice hospital in a dimension that Ford knew was safe. After a few months, the kitten had grown up almost completely, surpassing his caretakers by a handful of inches. Ahka’a insisted he stay with Ford; at least until he could find a place he could call home. Ford didn’t complain; after a few years of wandering alone, he could use a friend.

Two years later, they were still wandering dimensions together, trying to find a home for Akha’a and trying to gather up parts for Ford’s blueprints depicting his quantum destabilizer.

“You know,” Akha’a said softly, his wide eyes perusing the landscape. “I wouldn’t mind taking this place up. Look how open and free it all is.”

Ford laughed, a little uneasily. “It’s pretty, I suppose, but won’t you get lonely? This place is awfully quiet.”

Akha’a made a quick chirring sound, a sound Ford identified as laughter. “Not if the group agrees with me.”

“Not everyone is looking for a permanent settlement.”

“ _You’re_ not looking for a permanent settlement,” Akha’a reminded. “Besides, with a place so quiet and so remote, I’m sure it would be difficult for any hunters to come looking for some criminals like us.”

Ford sighed. “I suppose.”

Akha’a chirred again. “You’re upset that I’m leaving, aren’t you?”

Ford straightened himself and looked at the cat, a smirk curling on his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you to get off my back since I met you, you hairless rat.”

Akha’a shoved him to the side, baring his teeth in a playfully offended gesture. “You better watch your mouth there, Pines before I decide that this place _isn’t_ what I’m looking for.”

“I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare, but it just seems to be getting worse and worse.”

The two shared a laugh before falling into a comfortable silence as they traversed the yellow field.

“I’m not wrong though, am I?”

Akha’a’s soft question a few minutes later made Ford look at him gently. He glanced at the remains of his left arm and noted the slight limp in his step.

Ford sighed again, looking ahead. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend.”

“Yeah,” the cat agreed, his green eyes turning on Ford for a second before turning forward. “Me too.”

They walked some ways further before Ford noticed something peculiar. He mentally slapped himself for not noticing it, but he supposed that spending thirty-some years on Earth would create a barrier in his brain.

He reached out towards a stalk of grass, gently grasping the protrusion on the end of it.

“This is wheat,” he frowned. He stared at the plant for a few more seconds before looking around with a new eye, trying to find something familiar with the landscape.

“Did you say something?” Akha’a asked, noting Ford’s unease.

Ford turned the stalk for the cat to see. Akha’a tilted his head in confusion.

“This is a plant from 46’\; it’s used to make foods like bread and crackers.” Ford turned back to the plant. “Unless we’re in 46’\ on Earth, I don’t know what it’s doing here. Certainly the evolutionary patterns are vastly different from the ones on Earth, or anywhere for that matter.”

Ford watched as Akha’a brought up a small screen from his backpack, part of the integral equipment needed to successfully traverse dimensions. The screen lit up and he noticed a small loading bar from its transparent backside. Once it finally loaded, Akha’a narrowed his eyes.

“Well, it does say we’re in dimension 46’\\-“

Ford’s heart skipped a beat.

“-but the planet is called LV-426. Ring any bells?”

Ford frowned and shook his head, a small pang of disappointment and pain shooting through his heart.

_So. Damn. Close._

“No,” Ford said sullenly, releasing the plant.

Akha’a noticed Ford’s sudden change in demeanor and nudged his shoulder. “You’ll find your way home soon.”

_I hope I don’t,_ Ford didn’t say. _It’s not worth it._

 “Still doesn’t explain the wheat,” he settled on instead, starting to become hyperaware of anything that looked vaguely like Earth as the pair moved through the grass, a good deal behind the main group.

Akha’a offered no comment. Only his ears flicked in response.

They kept moving forward.

 

After what felt like hours of walking, the pair finally caught up to the main group who was stopped, staring dead at the top of a cliff. Ford followed their eyes and noticed, just past the trees, a massive object stood, its two ends curving forwards to lay shadows across the black lake below, like a massive horseshoe. The thing was stark black against the sky.

“What is it?” Akha’a asked breathlessly.

“Looks like some sort of spaceship,” the red-skinned leader said, her voice smooth and even.

The group shared glances, some unsure and some excited.

“What if it belongs to someone?” one voice asked.

“Who would it belong to? Nobody’s here,” piped another.

The group argued amongst themselves, wondering if they should take the plunge and see what it was. It was beginning to get dark after all and the thunderous clouds seemed to be getting larger.

Ford remained detached from the group, only listening and not giving any words. All the words he wanted to say fell somewhere between “I don’t like this place, it doesn’t feel safe” and “Home is so close, yet so far. I want to go home.”

Akha’a threw in his two-cents every once in a while, but mostly stayed out of it, not wanting to piss the leader off. She was a very hot-headed individual from what they’ve seen and it was in their best interest to stay out of her line of fire.

Eventually she did snap and tell everyone to shut up. After the voices quieted, she gestured forwards, towards the black horseshoe that sliced across the sky.

Akha’a and Ford shared a look, but followed anyway.

It wasn’t like they had anywhere else to go, not while dark was quickly approaching.

 

The ship was a hell of a lot larger than Ford had first perceived and it only made his skin crawl even more. There was an opening at its midpoint, the material having been disintegrated by time and wear.

Exactly how long had this thing been here?

The opening itself was massive, but nothing that could’ve been seen a quarter of a mile away; that’s how big this ship was. If it were possible, the land surrounding the ship was even quieter than where they had started, even though the forests were denser here.

“I don’t like this,” Ford muttered to himself, surprised and somewhat worried to see Akha’a’s face swivel to him, disbelief donning his features.

“Are you kidding?” his voice was bordering giddy. “This is so cool! It’s so big and quiet! I don’t see why this hasn’t been inhabited yet.”

“Well, don’t get your hopes up,” Ford said, ignoring the way his spine tingled. “There could be someone in there.”

“Minor inconvenience.” Akha’a waved his hand, his pupils wide as he took in the sights.

“If you say so,” Ford frowned, crossing his arms.

Akha’a looked at him, the giddiness seeping from his face. “What’s up with you? In every goddamn place we’ve travelled, none have looked this nice or felt so clean. Why are you turning up your nose here?”

“Because something’s just _not right,”_ Ford insisted through his teeth. “Look, back on Earth, if something was wrong, everything was quiet. Either everything is hiding or there’s nothing here and I don’t like either of those reasons.”

“So what? We’ve been to dimensions where it’s been quiet.”

“But there was always something wrong with those dimensions, wasn’t there?” Ford said.

They were nearing the entrance and Ford was slowly starting to slow down.

“The perpetual night dimension, remember that one? It was quiet because the clouds that always covered the sky rained acid. Nothing could survive there!”

“This dimension won’t rain acid,” Akha’a said, holding his hand out. “Look at how pretty these trees are!”

“Okay, yes, sure they’re pretty, but that’s not the point I wa-“

“Pines, listen.” Akha’a cut him off, his usually happy and carefree face donning something darker and more sullen. “I know how you get. You’re cautious and that’s okay, but I really think we should check it all out before we start to judge it.”

Ford opened his mouth again, but the cat shook his head. “I know that you aren’t looking for a place to live and, you know, to each his own, but I _am._ I like travelling with you and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done, but I really think that it’s time for me to go on my own way.”

After a few moments of silence, Akha’a gave a grin. “You can say you’ll miss me, I won’t laugh.”

Ford tried to match it, but he just couldn’t do it. “Sure.”

Akha’a just shrugged and turned away, stepping ahead of Ford and following the group into the ship.

Ford heaved a nervous sigh and followed the group, eyeing every crack and plate of metal like it was something that could hurt him.

He climbed into the ship, catching the tail end of orders from Red Skin. She, two other aliens, and Akha’a went off to explore a hallway to the left, while the other two aliens stayed behind, drawing their weapons for protection. One of them eyed Ford, like he was daring him to speak out against Red Skin’s orders. Ford simply looked away and unclasped his gun, sitting down against a wall of dark, scrapped materials and waited, keeping watch for the danger that was surely there.

The inside of the ship was dark and the floors were rigid, almost reminiscent of a spine and ribs going into the hallways at either side of the ship. Moss and ferns had started to make their way inside the cracks of the ship, a trickle of water pooling inside a few of the grates in the floor. Wires and other structural components hung from the ceiling, listing with the wind that whistled through the corridors.

The world was quiet. So, so quiet.

That was until a scream pierced the air.

Ford wasn’t sure when he had dozed off –judging by how dark the sky was now- but he was definitely awake now and on his feet. The other two guards looked bleary eyed as well, but were at the ready, their red laser pointers aimed down the left hallway. Ford loaded his gun and followed their sights, the flashlight on the top of it flicking on to see down the impossibly dark hallway.

Yeah, he was definitely shaking now. The light was quivering in a way that he couldn’t even keep it trained in one place, but he couldn’t stop his shivering. The two aliens bit at him, angry for his shaking movements, but Ford could barely hear them.

After what felt like hours, voices suddenly began to reverberate through the ship, agitated, worried, and scared. The two aliens lowered their weapons, but Ford kept his aimed, keeping the light on the hallway.

Eventually, Red Skin, and the two bodyguards moved into the room, carrying a body over to where the three vagabonds waited. Ford felt his heart jump in his throat when he saw that the body was Akha’a.

He ran over to the small group, kneeling down beside his friend, his hands shaking and his brain in overdrive. Everything paused when he noticed the cat’s face. He shakily shone his flashlight on it and he had to bite back a gasp of terror.

Attached to his companion’s face was a crab-like creature, pale brown in complexion and shimmering with some sort of mucus. Its eight, bony appendages were wrapped around Akha’a’s head, keeping its bottom side firmly attached to his face. A long tail was wrapped around the cat’s neck, tightening when the flashlight shone directly on it. Two flaps on the lower half of the parasite, by Akha’a cheeks, were expanding and contracting, appearing as if it was forcing its victim to breathe for it.

“What is it?” Ford found himself saying, his hands hovering above the creature, though he was scared to touch it.

“We don’t know,” a bodyguard panted, his three eyes wide with shock. “There- there was some sort of, uh, pod or egg and it just-“ he made a blooming motion with his hands. “-opened up. S’was like the thing was waiting for him.”

“He didn’t run away?”

“No; he was curious. He wanted to see what it was.”

_Curiosity killed the cat_ , his brain unhelpfully supplied. He bit his lip and the thought and shook his head.

_No, we don’t know that yet. Look, he’s breathing._

Red Skin knelt beside Akha’a and drew a short blade, worry etching her face. Her stripes flashed with anxiety. “We try to cut it off?”

Ford was sure she didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but the uncertainty in the leader’s voice made a shiver ride down his spine like melting ice.

Ford turned to her and met her single, purple eye. “Try,” he muttered, not knowing what else to do.

Red Skin knelt down further, her knuckles tight on the hilt. She lowered the blade down to one of the appendages on the parasite and pressed down into its skin.

The creature let out a hiss and pressed itself tighter onto Akha’a’s face. Its tail grew tight around his neck and the cat’s breathing quickened.

Red Skin moved the blade away quickly, panic etching her features. Ford shook like a leaf and the bodyguards were many feet away, watching the scene unfold with terror-stricken eyes.

Once the blade was removed, the parasite relaxed, though still firmly attached to Akha’a’s face.

“Peculiar.”

Ford turned at the sound of Red Skin’s voice, more frightened than the words would suggest.

She lifted her blade upwards, but away from Akha’a’s body and watched as the blade slowly began to corrode. The metal hissed and popped, reacting like an acid had come into contact with it.

Ford swallowed hard and looked down at the nicked appendage, noting the bubbling, green blood that oozed just a little ways from the cut. That in itself was not hazardous to Akha’a (immediately, at least) so nobody made a move to continue prying with the parasite.

A heavy, uncertain silence hung over the group.

“What do we do?” one of the bodyguards asked from across the room, his voice timid.

“We wait,” Red Skin said, regaining her stern composure. “Nothing we can do now.”

“There’s-“ Ford said in a high, shaking voice. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the parasite. “There’s gotta be s-something.”

Nobody said anything and no ideas came to Ford’s tattered brain.

The cat’s strained breathing echoed through the ship.

 

Ford insisted he stay up and watch over Akha’a while the others rested. At this point, he was too paranoid to even think about falling asleep. While the others moved away, setting up their bags as pillows and lighting a small fire, Ford sat by Akha’a’s side, watching for any changes in his condition. He thought about giving his hand a reassuring squeeze (like the day you had to get your wisdom teeth pulled and _he_ was right by your side, a big, goofy smile on his face- _stop.)_ , but the alien was unconscious and he didn’t want to further agitate the parasite.

_But he’s scared,_ his brain hummed. _He’s still just a kid._

Ford sighed and was reminded how fragile it all was; why he was alone in the first place; why he always vowed to trust no one. He was reminded that a single decision, one occurrence, can mean the life or death of someone.

It was all so fucking fragile and he hated seeing it shatter before his very eyes.

_It’s not healthy_ , a voice that sounded painfully familiar said. _You can’t keep doing this to yourself._

_I know,_ was the trained response, though he wasn’t really sure if he did.

Soon enough, the fire was extinguished and the criminals went to sleep. Red Skin’s stripes pulsed with every breath she took, the only natural light source for miles. The clouds still thundered, but rain never fell- it was becoming a dull, throbbing sound in his ears. Ford had flicked his flashlight on a while ago, wincing at how the parasite reacted. The thing relaxed after no harm was done to it, but Ford didn’t. He painstakingly drew the organism into his journal, the complexity and the intricacy of the animal both intriguing and horrifying.

The anatomy of the animal was somewhat easy to figure out, but the one key question that left most of his descriptions unfinished was _why._ What was this parasite doing to its host? Why does it need highly acidic blood? Why were there eggs?

Why was it so quiet?

A flicker of movement caught his eye and stopped his moving hand. His eyes flashed to the organism. He noticed that the flaps were no longer moving.

He held his breath as the tail slowly started to unwind from Akha’a’s neck and its spindly legs started to move. Ford shut his journal slowly and started to scoot away, slowly as to not catch the attention of the organism.

The tail twitched again and unwound completely, sliding to the floor with a heavy thud. Its eight legs slowly began to lift itself from Akha’a’s face. That’s when Ford noticed the fleshy tube retracting from his friend’s mouth and back into the underside of the organism.

_So that’s how he was breathing._

Ford swallowed and his hand slowly moved towards his gun, holstered at his waist. The spider gave a shudder as it stood up fully in a weird sort of stretch before crouching again, moving almost lethargically off his friend’s face.

Keeping his movements slow, Ford raised the gun, raising a hand to lock the cartridge into the weapon. The case locked with a _click_ that seemed to echo off the walls of the entire ship. Ford’s breathing hitched as the parasite paused, just out of reach of the flashlight’s path. Slowly, the thing turned back around, its front two appendages searching the space in front of it, like pedipalps on a spider.

The two stared at each other for a long few seconds before the parasite gave a low hiss and lunged.

Ford riddled the wretched thing with bullets before it could even touch him.

The animal gave a hissing scream as it collapsed onto its back, its spindly legs writhing in the air for a few moments before it curled up and went still.

Ford didn’t realize that the others had been awakened before he felt the gun get pulled from his hands and he heard the worrisome tones of the vagabonds surrounding him. Distantly he felt a hand on his shoulder and distantly he said “Yes, I’m fine.”

The thing that got him moving again was when he realized that Akha’a was moving on his own accord. He sat up with the help of Red Skin and gave a large cough before shaking his head and sighing.

Ford slowly crawled over to his friend and grabbed his shoulder. The cat looked at him with tired, glossy eyes, but the pull of a small smile crossed his lips.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Ford huffed, a giddy laugh escaping him. “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” Akha’a answered, nodding his head. A beat passed before he gave Ford a look, settled in the space between scared and giddy. “I think I’m going to keep looking.”

Ford exhaled a breath of relief and hugged his friend. “Good choice.”

Silently, Ford laughed at the voice that had been concerned just a few moments prior.

_Look! He’s fine; he’s alive! We can get the fuck out of here when the sun comes up._

_You never answered ‘why’._

The retaliation of his own brain made him pause and retract his hug. He peered at the cat, eyes searching over his body for some sort of tell that something was still amiss.

Akha’a didn’t seem to mind, knowing that Ford got anxious about this kind of stuff sometimes. People just have to make sure, you know?

Ford winced as he stood up slowly, his knees hurting from kneeling on the tarnished metal. He turned his gaze over to the (hopefully) dead parasite that lay still on the floor and he sucked in a breath before making his way over to the body. He stood over it for a few seconds, pushing it a little with his foot before deciding that it was very dead. The little holes drilled by the bullets oozed the acidic blood and he was very careful to avoid it as he crouched next to the creature. Taking his coat and putting it between his thumb and index finger, he placed it on one of its legs and pried it from its center, doing the same with his hand on the other side. When he let go, the limbs contracted back slightly, but not enough to obscure his vision of the underside. He did this three more times on each side before the underbelly was in full view.

The underside just seemed to be a fleshy, unprotected mess, layers of reddened flesh folding over themselves in a way that looked reproductive; it was repulsing. Steeling himself, he took a pen from his inner pockets and started to prod the thing, hoping that there would be some tell if it was a benign or malignant animal.

The only thing he could really find was that tube near the flaps of the body and he could only conjure up the idea that that was how it kept Akha’a breathing the whole time. There must be some sort of filter or tubes on the outside of the body that pumped oxygen in and expelled carbon dioxide, rotating through the system like a medical ventilator would.

But the question was still _why._

Grimacing at the unsatisfactory results, he stood, throwing the pen down by the body in disgust. He turned away from it and didn’t look back at it.

A small smile landed on his face when he saw Akha’a laughing with one of the body guard vagabonds, chirring like nothing bad had even happened. His eyes were bright and his breathing was normal. The only thing seemingly out of place was the red pressure marks around his neck, but that was to pass soon.

Ford sat down beside the body guard, listening to Akha’a laugh and tell stories to pass the night away. Red Skin and a few others sat down by the dead fire and spoke quietly, having their private little meeting.

If it was anything about getting the hell out of dodge, he’d be happy to join in on the conversation.

After a few minutes of talking and laughing, the light in Akha’a’s eyes started to dim, like a flashlight starting to lose the power from its batteries. He talked less and his smiles became grimaces. His one hand fiddled with his pant legs, pulling and grasping at them like he was subtly trying to relieve some sort of pain.

Very soon, that hand started to massage the center of his chest. His eyes started to screw up in pain and he released hard, laboured breaths.

Ford had been watching for a while, hoping that the pain would pass on and leave his friend in peace. But as the minutes dragged on, it just got worse.

“Akha’a,” Ford said slowly, reaching his hand out to touch his shoulder. The cat was shaking.

“A-are you okay?”

“S’just-“ his sentence cut off with a hard breath of pain. “-my chest hurts.”

Ford shared a look with the body guard. The alien swallowed visibly and stood up to get Red Skin.

“Okay, uh, maybe it’s just a panic attack,” Ford said, scooting closer to his friend. He hoped that maybe if he said the words that it would be true. After all, he knew how to treat panic attacks.

_Don’t lie to yourself. The only person who could ever do that was Sta-_

“Look at me Akha’a,” Ford said evenly, calmly. He waited until the cat’s eyes were on him. “Breathe in with me, okay?”

Akha’a shot a disbelieving glare at Ford, but followed as Ford took in a breath, held it, and then released it.

The cat only lasted a few breaths before a look of sheer, gruesome pain stuck at his face. His mouth opened in a silent scream and he collapsed on his back, his one hand tearing incessantly at the spot on his chest.

Ford gave a yell of shock and he scrambled to his friend’s side, watching hopelessly as his eyes rolled back into his head and he started to convulse.

Many pairs of hands started to grab at his arms, legs, and torso, trying to keep him from hurting himself even more.

Ford grabbed Akha’a’s face with his hands, screaming at him if he could hear him.

Spittle bubbled from the alien’s lips as his flailing grew stronger.

Akha’a released a loud scream past the saliva pooling in his throat as a loud cracking sound shot through his chest. His back curved upwards as a large laceration appeared on his skin, starting at his collarbone and ending right about halfway down his abdomen. The crew jumped back for a horrible moment as blood spurted from the wound, the dark red, almost black, substance spraying on the nearby rocks and the ground.

Blood was starting to replace the spittle in his mouth and the tears in his eyes.

There was one final, violent tremor and one final, ear-shattering screech before Akha’a’s chest split wide open, the ribcage unveiling like a blooming flower’s petals. Intestine and blood pushed against the cat’s shirt, visibly slipping down his side.

Akha’a continued to shake, but it was no longer convulsions.

Some _thing_ moved inside his flooded chest cavity, pushing against the gore and the bones that were in its way. Slowly, a dark head split the bloody lake, shimmering from the light of the nearby bioluminescent stripes. The creature released a high-pitched sound, silver teeth gnashing at a bit of muscle that was impeding its movement.

The entire group, including a mind-numbed Ford, scrambled away from it, fearing the monster that was appearing from the remains of their friend’s chest.

The organism released another sound, almost a purr, as it raised its spindly arms, pushing against the harder structure of Akha’a’s neck. It pulled itself from the dark pool and shook the gore off its little body before standing on its hind legs and looking out at the world.

The thing looked like a black skeleton with a domed head. Its tail had a sickle-like curve to it, the appendage cutting the air like the cracking of a whip as it lashed it. Patches of lighter skin dotted the creature- the same colour as Akha’a.

It was filled with bullets before Ford could blink, a bodyguard shakily holding Ford’s gun up.

It screamed as it was careened off the cat’s body, flailing as the acidic blood spewed from its body. With one more shot, the bullet rocketing through its domed, eyeless head, the thing went still and the air was quiet again.

Red Skin didn’t even give them the chance to process what just happened. She grabbed Ford’s arm roughly and practically dragged him across the skeletal floors and away from Akha’a.

He felt himself fighting against her, against the images that he just saw, against the blinding blue light that signified a portal, the last charge in their gun.

He couldn’t hear himself screaming, but he felt his voice growing raw.

He could see his vision going fuzzy, but he couldn’t feel the tears hot on his cheeks.

He screwed his eyes shut as he was thrown into a white abyss, gravity and electricity pulling at his back as he crashed into another dimension.

Two thoughts entered his quiet (too quiet, too quiet) brain as he lay there in the dirt:

_So that’s why._

_Curiosity killed the cat._


	2. Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill uses Ford's misfortune against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed the tag warnings!  
> Bill is not a nice guy...hope you enjoy this Angst Fest.

That time it had been quick- rather painless, in retrospect to the whole scenario. It was uncharacteristic of his tormentor to end it so swiftly, without much gusto, but with all the time in the world, Ford assumed, there was grand need to spread out the dramatics. The demon couldn’t go about losing his audience when the show had just barely begun, but Ford didn’t think that he’d provide much entertainment value, given he’d barely said a word through the whole ordeal. It made the scenario all the more frustrating to his captor, who was literally turning red as the non-existent moments ticked on indefinitely.

“You’re very infuriating to work with, you know that?” the demon said, crossing his arms across his flat frame. “How hard is it to blurt out a few lines of math? You do it all the time, even when the only person to hear it is yourself.”

Ford said nothing (predictably) as he sat up from his strewn position on the darkly colored floor, holding a hand to his abdomen where phantom pains still crawled. He blinked the black edges from his eyesight to glower at the triangular figure. A blue tinged shackle promptly clamped down on his left ankle and he made a solid effort not to wince as the soft hum of electricity moved through his boot. He held eye contact and did not twitch.

Bill either didn’t notice the challenge or simply didn’t care and he blinked his purple-tinged eye. “I find it even more infuriating that you’re holding on as long as you are. You’re going to give in eventually, so why not succumb to the inevitable and cough up that equation?”  
Ford stared for a few moments, his glare hard and biting before he slowly grinned, his features just as hard and nippy as his eyes. “It’s fun to watch you try.”

Bill’s glare hardened and so did Ford’s.

Okay, _maybe_ that was teasing a little bit too much and he was sure to endure some sort of horrid pain because of that, but _damn_ if he wasn’t going to tongue lash the beast while he still could and have no real fear of dying and staying dead. It was therapeutic in an odd sense of irony.

Bill didn’t seem to bite the bullet after the moment had passed and simply sighed and donned a more exasperated stance, like a parent reprimanding a child. “You know that if you keep talking like that, I’ll have to cut your tongue out, right?”

The threat should’ve chilled Ford, but after enduring a handful of deaths with varying levels of agony and humiliation, it wasn’t all that daunting.  

“That means I’ve won then, right?” Ford said. “My ‘irritability’ too much for the ‘oh so great Bill Cipher’ to handle? Damn, my brother lived with me for eighteen years and still had more resilience than you.”

Okay, now _that_ was toeing into some really deep shit and Ford knew it too. He was just so consumed by the idea that Bill needed him alive and that no amount of shit-talking would keep Ford dead, he was willing to endure some incredibly painful torture if it meant him getting the last word.

Was that smart? No, not particularly. But it felt good to finally be able to rip Bill a new one without permanent consequence.

So, at the worst time possible, probably ever in his life, Ford stuck his intellect at the back of his head and let his unthinking id do the talking for him.

And he relished in it.

“There is _nothing_ you can do to make me spill,” Ford said, still holding eye contact as Bill floated closer and closer, his demeanor becoming more and more aggressive. “And even if there was, I’m sure cutting out my tongue would not be the smartest choice for you to make.”

Bill let out a single, high-pitched chuckle, his entire body jolting a little at the small sound. “You know, you say this like I _don’t_ enjoy beating the daylights out of you. I have reason to believe that there’s _something_ in there you’ll snap for, I just need to figure out how to bring that out. We’ve got all the time in the world and there are so many ways to kill a simple carbon life form, such as yourself.”

Ford’s brow furrowed. “You seemed pretty irate for someone who still wants to get their hits into me. You seemed to want the code more than you want to hurt me.”

“And I still do,” Bill allowed. “But maybe I was just trying to be a gentleman, you know? Allow you to make a choice before I made one for you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“…same thing can’t be said about you, huh?”

Ford choked down his quip when the demon’s eye came within two inches of his own, the pupil so close he could see his own scared and blood-soaked face in it.

“As much as I would _love_ to get this party going to the big leagues, I’ve got to live for the small moments, you know? Being the one who breaks the ‘oh so great Stanford Pines’ to a bunch of shambling, unrecognizable pieces.”

Bill’s eye crinkled in a crude smile.

“You don’t go in the same way you come out with me. You of all people should know that.”

Any strength Ford did have, id or otherwise, faltered at the seams and left his stare hollow and scared. Bill sensed it and laughs again, backing away from Ford, a strange glint gleaming in his eye.

“You’ve seen your fair share of horrible things in the past, haven’t you? Friends die, _family_ die; creatures so grotesque it makes your weak little stomach flip. You’ve been lucky enough to not be on the receiving end on most of the things that are the killers of the multiverse, but maybe not today.”

Ford jutted his jaw to the side. “Whatever creature you have in mind with the intention of tearing me to pieces cannot be worse than what you’ve already done to me.”

Bill glanced at Ford briefly, from the corner of his eye. “Sometimes physical torture is insufficient to mental ones.”

Ford did not like the sound of that. He could handle physical torture- even if he were to pass away after the encounter, he could. He could bear the physical scars afterwards. They hurt and burned and ached sometimes, but he could do it. He’d lived with himself thus far, more or less- what was the fear in adding a little more scar tissue to a body with more scars that would surely overshadow them?

He knew, and Bill knew too, that mental scarring was a whole new tier of pain and agony. Those scars burned for a long, long time, but then slowly faded away after a few weeks, months, years. But one little thing, one sight, one scent, one sound could throw the whole thing off kilter and make Ford feel like he was dying. The sensations were unpredictable and the timing was even more so. It was a volatile wound to bear and he bore many. He didn’t want more. He couldn’t handle more.

So when Bill snapped his fingers, Ford looked away and shut his eyes, cringing. He put his hands over his ears and tried to block out any form of sound as much as he could. He wanted to avoid reopening the scar for as long as he could.

After a few long, terror-filled moments had passed, he slowly began to uncoil. With each passing second he wasn’t torn into was another second his fear was being replaced with courage and curiosity.

_Curiosity killed the cat,_ a thought murmured at the back of his head. He contemplated it for a moment before deciding that there was no point in avoiding whatever was going to happen forever.

He slowly opened his eyes and unfurled his position, erring on the side of caution as he looked at whatever Bill had summoned.

He stifled the desire to release a giddy, nervous laugh at the sight of the creature, or object rather.

It sat about six feet away from him and stood about three feet tall. It was an ovular object made with some form of dark plating, visually similar to the texture of that of a human brain. Soft, wavy ridges rode it up and down, eventually splitting into four sections at the top, like the petals of a flower that had yet to bloom.

While the simplicity of the object was somewhat laughable, the sheer presence of it made Ford a little on edge. It wasn’t anything particularly frightening and Ford didn’t ever remember seeing anything like this in his lifetime, but he still had reason to believe it was dangerous, given that Bill had summoned it.

Ford glanced up at Bill questioningly.

Bill shrugged and he floated a little ways from it, giving both the object and Ford a wide berth.

“Why don’t you go check it out?” Bill suggested, the grin evident in his voice.

Ford’s resolve hardened. “I don’t have to do anything for you.”

Bill shrugged again and raised his hand. The chain attached to the shackle around Ford’s ankle shifted and raised into the air. After a moment’s hesitation and a nonchalant flick of Bill’s hand, the chain pulled away from Ford, moving in the direction of the object.

Ford released a scared gasp as the chain started to drag him towards the thing. His hands grappled for hold against the blackened floor, but it was a futile effort. He tried to grip the floor with his boots and crawl back, but the chain was stronger and a hardened pulse of electricity from the shackle seized Ford’s leg hard, rendering the limb useless.

He bit down on a gasp of pain that tried to weasel its way out of his throat as the electricity flowed up his side, back, and into his left arm as well, practically paralyzing half of his body.

He had no choice but to let his body be dragged a mere foot away from the object, his heartrate picking up in intensity.

The chain was pulled taut and the wave of electricity vanished, allowing Ford’s battered body to relax on the floor, breathing in large mouthfuls of air. His entire body tingled.

“Now as much as I’d like to wring you out between my own hands,” Bill said, looking at his palms. “I’ve always liked the way that this creature does its…thing and I’m sure you are not to forget it anytime soon.”

Like Bill’s very words had triggered the object into motion, the four petals on the end of the object shuddered and opened up, a gross sucking and peeling sound emanating from their departure.

Figuring he was too vulnerable just lying there on the floor, Ford stood up on shaky legs, naturally falling into a practiced boxer’s stance. If Bill was going to let something fight his battles, than Ford was going to make sure he faced them head on.

Nothing happened for a few moments. The world seemed to fall into a gentle quiet, an eerie quiet.

Something at the back of his head awoke at the sound, or lack thereof and Ford froze.

Quiet. Too quiet. Why is it so quiet?

His breathing quickened and he tried to move away from the object- egg, egg it was an egg, just like the one _he_ said he found- but the chain was sturdy and didn’t allow him that.

He felt like he remembered this, somehow, itching at the back of his brain; something old, underwater, hidden by layers and layers of scars and trauma, but real and tangible and scary.

He weeded through the faces of fallen friends, trying to make sense of the signals his brain was giving off and why he knew what this was- did he?- even having never seen it before.

His internal search was halted by movement inside the object -egg- and, against better judgement, he peered inside it.

He barely had time to regret that decision before something hissed and jumped out at him with a speed faster than anything he had seen before. The sheer force of the thing slammed him onto his back, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He gasped for air for a moment before his brain yelled, _close your mouth close your mouth close your mouth!_ and he did with very little hesitation, slamming his teeth together and tightening his lips.

He couldn’t discern what was going on above him a mere inch from his eye; all he saw was red flesh, covered in slightly yellowed mucus.

He raised his hands and grabbed the thing that was pressed against his face, his blood-crusted nails shredding at the slimy skin above him. The creature let out an angry hiss and Ford felt pressure building around his neck. Panicked and realizing much _much_ too late what this creature really was, he dropped both hands from the body of the spider to claw at its tail, the skin much harder and unforgiving there. The creature tightened its hold in response, quickly cutting off Ford’s air.

_Need to breathe need to breathe need to gasp open your mouth and gasp,_ his body told him, completely at odds with his brain telling him to do the exact opposite.

Yes, he needed to breathe, but opening his mouth right now was a sure invitation for death.

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Ford grabbed the spider with both hands, driving in his nails and flipped himself over so he was on his stomach. Mustering every ounce of strength he still had, he dug in with his nails and pulled down with all his might. The legs of the spider hug into the back of his head as he pulled down, but the pain was covered by the need to _get it off get it off keep your mouth shut don’t gasp you need air gasp._

But another pain, something much stronger and much more intense exploded in his fingertips, riding through his nails and into his hands.

He opened his mouth and screamed.

There was no pause between the moment he opened his mouth and the moment something pried his jaw wider and slipped between his teeth. He tried to bite down on that tube he had seen being extracted from his friend’s mouth many years ago, but it was too rubbery to be torn by dull human incisors.

The sheer invasiveness and cruelness of it all makes him want to vomit, but not only is there nothing in his stomach to throw up, he absolutely cannot breathe anymore. The tail around his neck is too tight and the tube making its way down his throat is too obscuring. His head pounds and his nails smart.

It’s not too long before black covers his vision and he slumps to the floor, barely able to hear Bill’s laughter before he loses sensation altogether.

 

He came to very slowly. Fuzzy shapes danced in front of his eyes for about two minutes before he could even stare straight up without the entire room shifting horribly. The ceiling was high and dark above his head, the rainbow cracks in the rock pulsing gently. He timed it to his breathing for another three minutes before he sucked in a breath and forced himself to sit up. His entire face and neck ached and he felt a little winded. The world spun for a few second, but settled quickly allowing him to sit and breathe in the silence.

“Have a good nap, Fordsie?” a voice said from behind him.

Ford swallowed thickly, his mouth dry and he slowly turned his head, his stare soft and unfocused. He looked up and saw Bill, perched nonchalantly on his stone throne, watching Ford with a lazy purple eye.

“What happened?” Ford couldn’t stop from asking, rubbing one of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

Bill released a single laugh and stared down at Ford with a look of glee he could never get used to.

“’Ol facehugger bested you. Can’t wait to see the show in a few minutes time; I’m sure you’ll just be _bursting_ with excitement.”

It took Ford a moment to process Bill’s flippant words, but when he did, he all but shut down, delving into a panic all over again. Panting, he brought his hands to his chest, feeling as though the thing could split open his ribcage at any moment (which, really, it probably could).

His brain couldn’t quite grasp the concept that he was _going to die,_ even if he felt fine at the moment, he was going to endure an incredibly painful demise that somehow felt worse than anything Bill had done to him. This was different. This was personal.

Bill’s casual laughter caused Ford to look up.

“Oh man, even _I_ can’t rile you up that much anymore. I’m not even upset by that fact- seems like you respond… _better_ to traumas you’ve already endured. Weird how that works, huh?”

“That-“ Ford swallowed, spit getting caught in his throat in his haste to speak. “That has _never_ happened to me!”

“But you saw it happen to your kitten friend all those years ago, didn’t you?” Bill said before tsking in a way that almost sounded sympathetic. “That cat didn’t stand a chance. And neither will you.”

Ford paused in his panicked thoughts, the first part of Bill’s statement sticking out like a sore thumb.

“You- you _knew_ about that?”

Bill looked offended by the question. “Of course I did. One of those aliens worked for me. He said that he’d get you in that dimension and kill you and that I’d reward him the bounty on your head. Obviously he wasn’t too bright and messed up your friend’s life instead.”

Bill then shrugged. “Such as life. Besides, I get to, not only cause the demise you so desperately need, but watch it too. It’s almost better this way.”

Ford can’t ignore the way his chest twinges, sending dull waves of pain through his spine and ribs. Time is running out.

“This still won’t get you anywhere,” Ford snarled, balling his fists. “It’s the same thing: you wound me, I die, you bring me back- it’s the same goddamn thing every time. What makes this any different?”

“You know why this is different,” Bill said, almost challengingly. “Because it’s _personal_. Because it’s _alive._ Because it’s _real._ And it will stay with you until the day you _die.”_

As if on cue, another roll of pain shuddered through Ford and this time he could actually _feel_ something moving inside his chest cavity, right below his pectorals. He felt sick yet again and, yet again, could not actually bring anything up to vomit; his stomach was empty. However, because he could breathe, he began to dry heave, sucking in air like his life depended on it and hanging his head, his arms shuddering under the weight of his torso.

He didn’t go on for very long as it drove him to near exhaustion. The quick movements of his lungs must’ve disturbed the creature because the pain was slowly becoming more and more intense, the epicenter slowly moving upwards, towards the center of his sternum.

Bill sat quietly upon his throne, watching the ordeal unfold in a manner that radiated glee.

Ford couldn’t muster up the strength to glare and curse at Bill anymore. It took everything he had not to collapse on the floor and wait for death to arrive. Some part of him wanted to show Bill how long he could last, even as he neared his grave, one last bout of defiance towards the demon. But it didn’t matter; it really didn’t. Bill didn’t care _when_ he died- he just cared _that_ he died and right now, it was inevitable.

There was nothing Ford could do anymore. No words could stall his demise now.

All he could hope was that it was over quickly.

For a moment, as he slowly lay down on his back and covered his face with his hands, relishing in his last breaths of air, everything seemed to quiet. The pain ceased, the headache stopped, and his brain stopped thinking.

Bill was right; this _was_ different. Yes, it was personal; yes, it was alive; yes, it was real; but it was also something else.

_Time._ Bill had given him _time_ to accept his fate; Bill had given him time to close his eyes and wait for the inevitable; Bill gave him time to accept his death and die.

_You went through all five stages of grief in about two minutes,_ Ford thought and he almost laughed.

Everything else had been quick and agonizing- sure, Bill had let him bleed out once, but that felt like falling asleep from delirium; there was no room to think and accept- it just… _was._

The moment left as quickly as it had come and the pain hit him square in the chest again, feeling equivalent to that of a train hitting him head on.

He couldn’t stop the scream from tearing through his lips, shattering the silence that had filled the space before. It echoed across the walls of the room and Ford hoped, distantly, that it wasn’t too loud for any of his family to hear.

His back arched as the creature pushed against his chest again, ribs cracking under the pressure.

If he didn’t die right there, he would surely pass out from the pain. He hoped, oh so fervently hoped.

He felt a thick liquid bubbling up in his throat as his lungs have surely collapsed. He tried to turn over onto his side, to spit the blood out so he could _breathe,_ but another jolt at his chest caused his back to arch and a searing bolt of pain cut like lightning from the base of his collarbone all the way down to the bottom of his ribcage.

He didn’t know if he’s screaming anymore, there’s just _sound. Loud, loud sound._

He didn’t think his eyes are closed, but he can’t see anymore, surrounded by darkness.

There’s one more intense wave of pain, one more sharp snap that seemed to bury itself deep inside his mind, and one more loud _sound_ and then everything is gone.

Out like a light: there’s a reason that that saying exists and that’s exactly what it was.

_Out like a light._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the last one of this story! It won't be as long, but it will certainly be worth it.  
> Comment if you liked it and want to see more!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> 


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